


Bitterroot Flowers

by Rubynye



Category: Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Nonmonogamy, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-09
Updated: 2010-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-06 01:45:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/pseuds/Rubynye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What Rosie was up to on January 4, while her parents thought she was cleaning up at Bag End.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bitterroot Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> This is an inset for "[Festival Dancing](http://www.livejournal.com/users/rubynye/809.html)", and it takes place on January 4. Bitterroot is a contraceptive herb mentioned in "Festival Dancing".

"Well, then," Rosie said, holding out her hands, "where were we?"

Sam took one hand and pulled her to him to kiss her again, hungrily, almost roughly; Mr. Frodo took the other and held it, and even while Sam was kissing her Rosie could feel Mr. Frodo watching them, as his fingers grew warmer around hers. Then she felt Sam's fingers sweeping up around her waist to start unlacing her bodice, and she giggled and stepped back, disengaging her mouth from his and her hand from Mr. Frodo's. "Unlacing me will make it clear as day I've been out of my clothes," she said, reaching back to find the clasps. "Let me just unhook this---"

"Allow me." Mr. Frodo moved behind her to undo the row of clasps down the back of her bodice; it was Sam's turn to watch, as Mr. Frodo ran his tongue along the point and curve of Rosie's ear, pushing the bodice up off her body, his hands warmly sliding over her chemise to cup her breasts. Rosie leaned her head back, her eyes falling shut as she sighed with pleasure, and Mr. Frodo chuckled. "See how much we've missed you? Sam resisted all the Brandy Hall lasses and half the lads, talking of nothing but seeing you again."

Rosie pried her eyes open to see Sam's bashful, blushing smile, as he slipped the bodice off her arms and took her hands; then she gasped, as Mr. Frodo pinched her nipples, and he chuckled again, and Sam laid his mouth to the other side of her neck, and Rosie thought her knees would buckle under the weight of pleasure. "Oh, Sir, oh Sam, I'll fall if you keep doing this---"

"Then let us go rumple the bed you made for me." Mr. Frodo drew back, but only to take Rosie's hand and gently tug her and Sam, their arms around each others' waists, down the hall.

 

*|*

 

Rosie sat on the bed and watched Sam undress Mr. Frodo with careful, swift, loving fingers. Mr. Frodo stood with his head tilted back, and Sam, knowing his master's clothes far too well to need to see what he was doing, kissed the long pale throat as he worked. Rosie sat, hot and disheveled, and watched them with joy and love and desire.

"Now you, Sam," said Mr. Frodo in a shaking, husky voice, raising his hands to Sam's neck. Sam started to demur---he always did---and Mr. Frodo shook his head and said, mock-sternly, "Rosie, if he lifts a finger, grab his hands." Rosie giggled at that, and at Sam's attempt at a reproving look. "Yes, sir!"

Soon Sam's clothes were off, piled on the chair, and the two of them stood with their arms about each other, kissing fit to make Rosie breathless. Every time she saw them together she marveled anew at how wonderful they looked with each other, Sam with his broad shoulders and sunny skin and thick scattering of golden hairs, and Mr. Frodo, darker and paler and slenderer and smoother.

Then they turned their attention to her, holding out a hand each, and Rosie didn't think she could stand, what with her legs gone all to hot jelly, shot through with the fire suffusing her. She _had_ missed them this Yule, hadn't she? Sam and Mr. Frodo pulled her up to them, and Mr. Frodo wound a hand in her hair and kissed the back of her neck while Sam undid her clothes, his hands sweeping warmly over her skin as he pushed the garments off.

"There, no more clothes in the way." Mr. Frodo detatched himself to climb onto the bed and grin up at both of them. "Come here, my dears. I think Sam should be in the middle to start with." Rosie giggled and obeyed, charmed as ever by Mr. Frodo's sweet bossiness, delighting in the feel of Sam pressed against her front while Mr. Frodo curled around him from the back, his hands reaching past Sam to stroke over Rosie's skin as well, thighs to nape and back again, his legs entwining hers and pulling them in. Sam lay between them, eyes closed, just feeling them both for a moment; then his warm strong hands came up around Rosie's neck to cradle her face, and his eyes were dark and deep when he opened them, and Rosie fell into them as he kissed her for a long, warm moment.

Mr. Frodo made an appreciative noise. "Ah, that's lovely. I want to watch you two for a bit."

That broke the kiss. "Sir?" said Rosie and Sam at once, and then they both blushed at once, and Mr. Frodo's grin was wonderfully naughty. "Oh, my dears, don't worry about me, I'll have my turn. Now I want to watch you." He sat up against the headboard, folding his legs beneath him, so their heads were in his lap; Sam looked up at him, and Rosie watched them look at each other for a moment, before laying her tongue to the hollow of Sam's throat and enjoying the moan and tremble that caused. Mr. Frodo tangled his hands warmly in their hair as Sam and Rosie kissed and clung, feeling his gaze as if it were more loving hands on their skin.

Sam rolled onto his back, bringing Rosie with him and pulling her up to bury his face in her bosom, and she realized she could have a bit of both of them. "Mr. Frodo, you---oooh---you can't just watch," she said, sliding her hands up his thighs even as Sam made her tremble, and he smiled down at her, his hand on her cheek sliding up into her hair. Rosie's kisses followed her hands, punctuated by gasps as Sam laid hot trails of kisses across her breasts, until she could kiss her way up Mr. Frodo's length and take him in her mouth. He sighed with pleasure, quivering finely, as she slid her lips down him; Sam sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, and she moaned, and knew they both could feel her moaning, and that made it better yet.

Sam's other hand stroked its way down over Rosie's back and lower, and lower still, till he was parting her as gently as he might stroke flower petals, and she gasped, feeling herself lose the rhythm she'd been building on Mr. Frodo as Sam distracted her lovingly, a finger slipping within her and his thumb drawing tiny circles where it felt best; another finger, and she arched her back, whipping her head up, feeling the smooth skin of Mr. Frodo's belly against her forehead as she cried out in her first peak.

One nice thing about being a lass is being able to peak several times of a tumble. Rosie sank down till her face pressed against Mr. Frodo's thigh, feeling herself quaking all through, feeling Mr. Frodo's hand in her hair and Sam's fingers within her gently and firmly working her up to another. She curled her back to bring her face down to Sam's and kissed him, one hand tracing his ear and sliding up into his hair, the other holding to Mr. Frodo yet. Sam kissed her back, his tongue winding warmly around hers, his fingers moving faster as his other hand slid out from between them up into her hair to join Mr's Frodo's; Rosie moaned into the kiss, feeling as if the lightning crackled up from Sam's fingers within her to their hands joining and twining in her hair, as those insistently loving fingers brought her to a second peak.

Rosie came to herself with her face pressed to Sam's neck, gasping against his warm-smelling skin. Sam turned his head to kiss her ear as he gently slipped his hands from their positions at either end of her; those warm strong hands stroked hot paths to Rosie's waist, and he lifted her and pulled her down his body, while she gasped and giggled breathlessly, to settle her atop him. "Rosie?" he asked, several questions in one word, and she opened her eyes to his. "Oh, yes," Rosie breathed, leaning down, and felt Sam smile against her mouth as she kissed him again. Then she cried out, as he pulled her hips back and down, entering her.

"Ah!" Rosie cried out in pleasure, her hands clutching Sam's shoulders, hearing Sam moan as she clenched around him and Mr. Frodo moan just from watching them. A flash of light and dark, and Mr. Frodo was on his knees, kissing Sam; Rosie smiled to see it, their faces upside-down to each other, and thought of taking Mr. Frodo's eartip in her mouth, but Sam started to bounce her, and her body bounced with his as she threw her head back again and held onto Sam and simply _felt_. And then Mr. Frodo kissed her throat, his hand returning to her hair, and then he bit her, low at the join of her shoulder and neck, and Rosie saw white flashes behind her eyelids as she felt herself scream. "Yes, yes," she heard Mr. Frodo say, and "Oh, Rose, oh, Sir," from Sam, and Mr. Frodo was kissing her again even as she cried out into the kiss, feeling her whole body go rigid with the pleasure arcing through her, feeling Sam's hands tight on her waist as he arched and gasped beneath her, pulsing warmth deep within her.

Rosie blinked, and realized she must have swooned for a moment. She was limp atop Sam, her face against his shoulder, his hands on her lower back, and Mr. Frodo still had one hand in her hair, his other holding Sam's face as he kissed him, deeply and thoroughly. Rosie floated there and watched them kiss and felt she'd never been so content.

When Mr. Frodo released his mouth Sam sighed with pleasure, opening his eyes slowly to look up at him warmly, then turning that look to Rosie. "Oh, glory," Sam observed quietly, and Rosie smiled with all the love in her and raised her hand to trace his bottom lip. Glory indeed.

They lay there warmly for another breath or three; then Sam kissed Rosie on her brow and gently rolled her off him. Mr. Frodo lay down behind her, wrapping his arm round her waist, as Sam sat up and looked fondly at them. "I should be up."

"Sam!" Mr. Frodo sounded as indignant as Rosie felt, and when he reached over her for Sam she took her cue from him and reached up as well. Mr. Frodo and Rosie wound themselves around Sam, one on each side, their hands meeting and clasping over his chest and across his back before moving on to stroke him back and front. "Sam, stay," urged Mr. Frodo before he began sucking on an eartip. "You can't get up, we ain't done," Rosie added as she trailed her lips over his collarbone. Under the loving onslaught, Sam trembled and flushed and wrapped one arm around each waist even as he tried to protest, "But the packs---" Rosie pressed her lips over Sam's, as Mr. Frodo whispered into the ear he'd been licking, "the packs can wait." Sam sighed into Rosie's kiss, defeated and delighted, and sank back down till they were all in a heap.

After a tangled, giggly moment, Rosie rolled over to lie on her side, her arm around Mr. Frodo's back, her fingers skimming Sam's chest, as Mr. Frodo bore down on Sam till he was atop him. He hadn't peaked yet, after all, and was so hot with wanting he was trembling as he devoured Sam's mouth. Rosie watched as Mr. Frodo kissed his way down Sam's throat, till he lifted his head to glance at her, one bright flash of a smile, and she smiled back and curled herself closer round Sam's shoulders, drawing his head to her breast. Sam moaned and turned his head, pressing his face to her breasts even as Mr. Frodo had his mouth fastened to one of Sam's nipples and the other between his fingers, well on his way to rousing Sam again, and Rosie too just fron watching.

Mr. Frodo looked up at Rosie again, knowing what watching was doing to her, and waggled his eyebrows at her as he licked up one side of Sam and Sam shuddered with delight. "Mmmm, Rosie, I can taste you on him," he said mischeviously, and plunged down onto him; Sam arched his back, his hand sliding backwards up over Rosie's belly, and she grasped that hand and kissed him, holding his hand, all the while keeping her eyes open as best she could to watch, feeling the heat coiling and growing within her.

Sam was gasping before Rosie released his mouth. "Oh, ooh, I should be up," he protested in a trembling voice. Mr. Frodo snorted, though he didn't lift his head; "Sam Gamgee," Rosie said reprovingly, and kissed him again. Sam subsided into four loving hands and two loving mouths, and for a moment there was no sound but ragged breathing and the thrumming of their blood; then Sam moaned into the kiss, shading up to a cry, and Rosie held him as he peaked, one hand over his pounding heart, kissing his mouth and cheeks and eyelids. "Sam," she whispered, and he smiled.

Mr. Frodo sat up, licking his lips, lashes lowered; then he opened those eyes, and the look in them was like strong warm hands on Rosie, pulling her to him. She unwound herself from Sam, rising to her knees, and Mr. Frodo slid his hands up her neck and her face into her hair, bringing her mouth to his, and she could taste Sam on his lips, and oh but it made her hot. He pulled her down with him, still kissing her, one of his hands sliding out of her hair to grasp Sam's hand and pull it around both of them, as she wound her arms around his shoulders and kissed him back with all the want and heat in her.

Three hands caressed Rosie, Sam's arm holding them both to him, her back against his chest, Mr. Frodo's hands sliding down her back between them to pull her legs up around him, and Sam's other hand tracing her ear, her jaw, her neck, her collarbone. Mr. Frodo entered her, and their bodies moved in unison, as he wound one arm around Sam, pulling the three of them tightly together, releasing her mouth to nip at her ear and bury his face in her hair. Under her own moaning Rosie heard him murmuring, some long liquid babble she couldn't understand, though she heard her name and Sam's in it somewhere; holding Mr. Frodo as tightly as she dared with her arms and legs, she turned her face to Sam, and he smiled at her and kissed her and she lost herself in the pleasure of being held between the both of them, coming up to a long wonderful peak. Sam kissed her on her cheeks and eyes as she had kissed him, as she went up and down and up again, as Mr. Frodo whispered and moaned into her hair till he cried out himself as he peaked, his arm breathtakingly tight around her. As Rosie sank down into the embers of pleasure, she felt Mr. Frodo draw in a long shuddering breath, felt Sam kiss her brow and then kiss Mr. Frodo's, and she smiled.

By the time she drifted back to herself Sam was breathing drowsily, his forehead resting against the back of her neck, his arm beneath his lovers tucked around both of them and his arm above wound round Rosie's waist. Mr. Frodo lay on his back, one of Rosie's legs beneath his knees, his arm beneath her neck, his hand in Sam's hair; she thought he was asleep, until he opened his eyes and smiled at her, not looking a whit sleepy even as Sam began to snore gently. "What are you thinking of?" Mr. Frodo whispered, his breath warm on her ear.


End file.
